Untitled
by Iryl
Summary: Complete? The title is so inventive! I'm so proud of myself! ... Mainly about Quatre. There's a little action that has absolutely no solution and you never hear anything more about it -- it just pops up and leaves. Not my best, but still good. [QWxDC]


Untitled  
by Iryl 

Quatre shook his head, tossing another stone into the professionally manicured pond, trying his best to think about something other than the marriage that was to be taking place in a few hours. Glancing down at his best tuxedo, he wondered why his dad had to remarry at all. Didn't he love Mother? Sighing, fourteen year old Quatre Raberba Winner reminded himself that it had been five years already, and that it was good his dad was moving on.   
    Even though the woman was a scum-sucking -- Quatre was relieved having to finish this thought by a strong arm being tossed over his shoulder and sympathetic dark blue eyes meeting his own, usually bright and cheerful pools of blue, now darkened with gloom and sadness. "Sucks, doesn't it man?" Duo Maxwell, son of Maxwell Condominiums, commented, not really expecting an answer as he picked up a rock and made it skip five times across the small clear pool before /plunking/ down into the water.   
    Quatre sighed again, "Yeah. It really does." It wasn't that he didn't like the widowed Sarah Catalonia, it was that he hated her. She only wanted his father's money since her husband's was quickly running out, and her horrible niece was not helping Quatre like her any greater. Dorothy was a spoiled, selfish thing, with a wild eye that could only lead to trouble. Quatre sighed again and had brief thoughts of jumping into the perfect pond to drown himself instead of live with those women, but sense reclaimed him just as quickly and he turned away from Duo's rock-skipping, spying a small group coming towards them.   
    "Hello," Quatre greeted politely as the others settled in around him. He had been forced to grow up with these people, the elite of New England society, and found them truer friends than he could ever hope for. Relena "the Princess" Peacecraft, her father in oil drilling and her older brother (though just by a year) ready to take over the company when her father retired. Miliardo "Lightning Baron" Peacecraft and his betrothed Lucrezia Noin watched from the edge of the preparations. The bulk of the guests would be arriving in two hours, at the moment it was just a run-through with the closest families present.   
    Standing protectively beside Relena was Heero Yuy, his father owning several diamond mines, and there was already talk of the two marrying and joining their respective dynasties. While Relena was bright and kind, with long light brown hair and intelligent blue eyes, Heero was dark and mysterious, more of a strong silent type than the socialite that was "the Princess." Still, a light shone from his eyes when he looked at the girl beside him, and no one could doubt he cared for her, though she did most of the pursuing in their relationship.   
    Hilde, a spunky girl and Lucrezia Peacecraft's younger sister, held onto Duo's arm, who looked down at her fondly and pulled the white sunbonnet down over her eyes. She let go of him and pulled it off, smacking him with the hat before placing it delicately back on her head. "Take that." Duo only grinned at her, and Quatre felt a little jealous of their flirtations. There was no one among the group for him, except maybe Trowa Barton's half-sister, but she was at /least/ a year older than them! Quatre looked over to where Catherine Bloom was adjusting her younger brother's tie. Trowa only gave Quatre a long-suffering look over her shoulder, then grinned. Trowa never smiled much, but when he did it was an amazing transformation of his face. His whole being got lighter and more joyful. Quatre knew it was because of his sister, they really did love each other, and it made Quatre wish he had an older sibling as well, even though Catherine did big sister the entire group. Quatre wanted someone just for him, and it made him lonely to be without anyone.   
    Now that he was losing his father . . .   
    "Cheer up!" a voice said, and beautiful Sally Po, daughter of foreign silks, sat down beside Quatre on the rock. She was Quatre's distant cousin, and his age, but she was a little too practical for Quatre's tastes. If anything, she was more friends with Lucrezia than any one else. The two just seemed to click. "I have a surprise for everyone!"   
    All the people looked at her curiously, and she went and grabbed something from behind a nearby tree, dragging a nervous Chinese boy over to their group.   
    "This is Wufei Chang, his dad is doing business with mine and I'm supposed to watch out for him and make sure he has a pretty good time."   
    "Can he speak English?" Duo -- it would be Duo -- asked, sensing an opportunity.   
    "Fluently," the boy told him, and Duo relaxed, giving up the devilish twinkle in his eye. Quatre only shook his head at his friend. The tricks he loved to play on people had certainly earned him the name "God of Death" . . . especially since everyone wanted to /kill/ him afterwards.   
    Not to mention his driving . . . But, Quatre relented to himself, he wasn't half as bad a driver as Heero was. Duo was reckless on the road because he wanted to have fun -- Quatre suspected Heero was just dangerous because that was the only way he KNEW to drive.   
    He wondered which was worse . . .   
    "Wufei's into martial arts," Sally continued, and Quatre realized he had missed part of the conversation during his reverie. But he knew this announcement would definitely interest the other guys.   
    "Care to show us a little?" Heero asked, sizing the other -- shorter -- boy up. "I could spar with you, if you like."   
    "If you're interested," Wufei definitely looked interested himself. "I'd like to see how boys in America fight." He smiled, the light of challenge entering his gaze, and Heero nodded, leading him to a field on the other side of the pond and out of sight of the wedding rehearsal, the group trailing excitedly behind.   
    Both boys took off their jackets and ties, unbuttoning the first button in their shirts, and rolled up their sleeves, so as not to tear their clothing in the fight. Relena took Heero's jacket, and Sally stopped Wufei from laying his neatly on the ground and held his. Quatre glanced at his cousin a moment, wondering -- she usually wasn't so obliging with boys – and caught the surprised Chinese boy's gaze meeting Sally's warm smile. Quatre could have sworn something happened to them as she stepped back silently and he turned to the fight.   
    "No injuries," Relena commanded, stating the rules, "this is only a friendly sparring match. Try not to get your clothes too dirty, and the match is over when a winner is declared or the wedding starts. Quatre will be the judge and call it if there is doubt." Quatre glanced at her, wondering why she had chosen him, but she only nodded to him to start the match.   
    "Go!" he shouted, and both boys immediately began circling each other warily. Wufei's dark eyes were slitted in concentration, and Heero had that look of furious determination Quatre had only seen when he fought. Wufei sprang first, agile as a Siamese cat coming in to reach past Heero's defense and get a hit, faster than anyone had thought he could, but Heero blocked the attack and countered, turning in a circle and they ended up circling each other again. Quatre glanced at the others quickly, noting Duo's avid interest in the fight and Sally's wide-eyed pleasure. It was obvious she had underestimated the Chinese boy. Relena looked a little more concerned for Heero than she had been, but was still confident in his abilities, rooting him silently on.   
    Looking back, Quatre caught movement and saw Heero trap Wufei in a lock, who quickly twisted and slid out of it -- no easy task, Quatre knew by experience, and his respect for the boy rose a level. Duo was the only one of the group Heero had ever beat up, and the other boy, however strong he was, had not been able to get out of Heero's lock. They were as good of friends afterwards as ever, but it had been an interesting event.   
    Wufei tried to turn Heero's arm behind him and use leverage to make him yield, but Heero jabbed an elbow for Wufei's stomach, who moved in time to avoid having the air knocked out of him and dropped to the ground, sweeping a leg to knock Heero's feet from under him. Heero leapt over the leg and things continued on for a while, faster than Quatre could consciously follow, and finally he called them to a halt, both sweating and breathing heavily. Relena and Sally brought the boys' coats and ties and they accepted them gratefully, sinking down with the others on the grass.   
    "Good match," Wufei said to Heero, admiration in his eyes, and the other boy nodded agreement, giving Wufei a rare full smile.   
    "Very good."   
    Duo looked at them both where his chin was propped upon his fists, elbows on his knees. "I'd like to see you two when you /don't/ have to worry about messing up your clothes." He cocked an eyebrow and Wufei gave an absent smile, looking at the grass and picking a blade apart. Heero only lay back, resting his head on Relena's lap. There was still an hour until they had to go for the wedding. 

~~One Half Year Later~~   
"I'm glad Father let me come live with you," Quatre told Trowa as he unpacked in the room right next to his best friend's. "I just can't stand that woman and her lies about me! They're so . . . mean!" He sat down and frowned, still upset about what Sarah Catalonia had done to disgrace him to his father. Trowa tossed an arm across Quatre's shoulders.   


    "It'll be okay. Your dad loves you, you know that." Quatre did know it, but he wasn't sure if his dad trusted him anymore. Not after she accused him of . . . that. Quatre shivered and vowed not to think about it. It was too horrible.   
    "Hey guys!" Catherine stuck her head in the door and smiled. "I made a cake for Quatre's arrival! Yellow with chocolate ic-ing!" she sang, knowing that would lure them to the kitchen. Sure enough, the two boys shared a look and raced past a laughing Catherine and to the dining room where she had set out two plates, each equipt with a big slice of cake and huge glass of milk.   
    "Things won't be too bad, right?" Trowa asked over a mouthful of cake, and Quatre smiled at him, nodding. 

~~Three Years Later~~   
"Mr. Chang is coming down from China today, Sally," Mr. Po told the eighteen year old girl lounging in a cushy chair in their library, reading some action novel. She was in her favorite old outfit, army fatigue shorts and a tan tank-top. She looked like a soldier in that -- which was what, Mr. Po assumed, she wanted to look like. "I want you to entertain his son, Wufei, while we conduct our business." She nodded, then noted the name and looked up.   


    "You mean those people who were here during Mr. Winner's wedding?" she asked, remembering the historic -- and impressive -- fight between him and Heero several years ago. Her father nodded, told her to get dressed in something a little less . . . shabby . . . and left to make some phone calls. Sally immediately raced upstairs and took a quick shower, changing into jeans, a better tank top, and her favorite fatigue jacket. Surveying herself critically in the mirror, she decided to try her honey-brown hair the way Lucrezia had experimented with the other day when she had stayed the night. Parting it down the back of her head, she twisted both sides into ropes hanging over her shoulders. Looking at the effect it had of framing her slender face and pale eyes, Sally smiled. She looked pretty good.   
    At that moment, she heard the intercom in her room buzz and the butler's voice came through. "Miss Po, Miss Noin is here for you." Sally tried to calm the pounding of her heart that had begun when she heard the thing come on, and wiped damp palms against her jeans. This was no time to be nervous, she counciled herself as she raced down the stairs to meet Lucrezia. As she turned the corner in the main hallway, she ran full into a warm body, knocking them both to the floor.   
    "Ow!" she rubbed her head, getting up, "Sorry Lu," she shook her head to clear it and laughed, "Didn't see ya." She reached a hand down to her friend before realizing that it was not Lucrezia Noin who lay on their elbows on the hall rug, stunned, but a handsome young Chinese man. Sally stared and he stared right back, entranced. He was older, she noted, a little taller than she was now, his slanted dark eyes just as mesmerizing and mysterious, hiding secrets that she wished desperately to figure out.   
    "And I thought Hilde was accident prone, Sally," Lucrezia laughed from where she leaned against the hallway's wall. "We may just have another Queen of Catastrophe in the group, eh?" Sally looked at her friend a moment, still confused, before offering her hand more firmly to the young man who was trying to get up. He took it and stood, brushing himself off, as her father and Mr. Chang entered, asking what had happened.   
    "It was my fault, I ran into Mr. Chang here," Sally told them, embarrassed and confused. She didn't feel it appropriate to call him Wufei, after running into him so inelegantly like that.   
    "It was partly mine," he spoke up from behind her, and she turned to stare at him, but he only looked at his father. "I wasn't watching myself and did not move in time."   
    "Your reaction time's getting slow, Wufei," the older man said, reprimanding, "Work on that. You know what your grandfather would say."   
    "Yes sir," Wufei looked away, his voice calm but his stance showing his agitation. At least, it was painfully apparent to Sally.   
    The men went back to her father's study and she was left with Wufei and Lucrezia.   
    "Well," Lucrezia said, "lets get going, girl. Come on Wufei, we'll show you what this town is all about."   
    Sally grinned half-heartedly and motioned for the Chinese boy to follow them. Lucrezia ran to the convertible Miliardo was waiting in and hopped in the passenger side. Sally lagged behind a moment inside the foyer with Wufei and turned to him. "I'm sorry I ran into you," she said softly, looking up into his eyes. He was so close . . .   
    He smiled and looked down at her, "It's okay." She looked so beautiful . . . much more developed than the gangly teen who had smiled at him so kindly last time. He moved forward and found his lips resting lightly on hers, eyes closing, and he kissed her, the first girl he had ever kissed, felt her mouth responding to his, soft lips moving warmly against his own. He broke the kiss and blushed. "Sorry."   
    "Why?" she whispered, eyes confused, and he only shook his head, glancing at her uncertainly sideways.   
    "It was too forward, wasn't it?" he asked, but Sally just laughed and grabbed his hand.   
    "No," she looked up coyly through blonde lashes and Wufei felt his heart leap, "You can do that anytime." She turned and pulled him, laughing. "Come on, they're waiting." 

~~Two Weeks Later~~   
Quatre ran down the stairs at Catherine's scream, hurrying to find Trowa already by his sister and helping her to a chair. Looking to the door, he could see why she had screamed. Dorothy Catalonia stood there, breathing heavily and tears cutting through the dirt and soot on her cheeks. Blood matted her pale blonde hair on one side and her normally immaculate clothes were torn.   


    "Dead," she gasped out, blue eyes wide and unfocused as Quatre helped her to a chair. "All dead. Auntie, your father. Dead." Quatre swayed back with the impact of this news as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Trowa caught Quatre and helped him to another chair before he could collapse on the dining room floor. Then he got some tea for Dorothy. She thanked him and drank it slowly. Quatre just managed to ask her what had happened, his shock was so great.   
    "Slaughtered," she choked out, "then burned." He watched the girl swallow the bile rising in her throat and waited. "I walked here . . . it . . . it happened yesterday." Quatre closed his eyes in pain. Why hadn't the police called to tell him what happened? Who did this? Why didn't anyone pick up Dorothy and drive her here?   
    It suddenly hit him. "The family reunion," he stated, and she nodded. All the neighbors in that area -- his old home -- were related except for the Winners. Once a year the whole neighborhood but his family shifted to the lower New England area to visit the oldest of their clan. They would be coming back in two or three more days. No one would have seen. No one would have known.   
    "Dear God," he muttered, sinking his head into his hands. "Dear God . . ." 

~~The Next Morning~~   
"I know you hate me," Quatre heard from his doorway, and turned to look at the tall blonde girl who stood there in her borrowed nightgown, feet bare. She looked like a witch . . . a very beautiful witch . . . but the flare of spirit and challenge that had been holding her high since he had first seen her with her hated aunt was now gone, her blue eyes dulled and lifeless, and her posture that of a wilted flower, instead of the wild violet he was used to. Catherine had helped her wash the blood from her hair and soot from her face. Thankfully, she was not injured and the blood was not her own. Her aunt had hidden her when they had come . . . "But more than anything we need each other right now. You know that as well as I do and," she looked away, like a puppy who had been beaten too many times, "I'm not strong enough to fight that at the moment."   


    "Come," he said softly, patting the spot beside him on the edge of his bed, and she moved to sit beside her former step-cousin, letting him enfold her in his arms, and they cried together in the early morning light shining through his window.   
    "I'm sorry," she said after the tears had slowed. "I'm sorry for all we did to you. I promise I will never hurt you again." Quatre hugged her tighter and murmured that it was okay, but Dorothy pulled back. "No, it's not! We lied about you, made your father believe you /raped/ me, and it is NOT okay!" Her tears were coming faster, but she quieted and looked at him seriously. "He loved you to the last you know. And he never really believed us. I could see it in his eyes. He never trusted us after you left. He really did love you." She looked at him earnestly, and Quatre gazed back, tears forming for a very different reason this time. He would not forget what she had just done for him.   
    "I know," was all he said, and they held each other again, grieving over the loss of loved ones . . . 

~~One Year Later~~   
Quatre watched Heero and Wufei bend to kiss their brides simultaneously, and sighed. Double weddings were so delightful. No matter how Duo teased him for it, Quatre Raberba Winner was a firm romantic at heart, and nothing could change it. The brides looked beautiful, Relena and Sally shone like purest stars in the heavens, and Quatre was very happy for all his friends. He caught sight of Miliardo and Mrs. Lucrenzia Noin Peacecraft sharing a special look from their spots as groomsman and matron of honor. If he looked hard enough -- was Lucrenzia getting wider in the belly?! Oh God! Quatre grinned. He wondered when they were going to tell the rest of them. Maybe at the reception . . .   


    Quatre felt a slender hand slip into his own and glanced to the young woman beside him, giving her a warm smile and toying with the ring on her left hand. It wouldn't be long before he and Duo were having a double wedding of their own. Ever since the tragedy occured, Dorothy had lost something of her pride and arrogance, gaining a sad wisdom which always seemed to lurk at the back of her eyes. They never knew who had killed his father and her aunt, but no one had attempted on their own lives and it was assumed they would be left alone. It wasn't long before Quatre found himself falling in love with Dorothy, and soon after asked her to marry him.   
    Of course, that left Trowa without anyone . . . but he would just have to find someone to set his best friend up with. After all, they all had to live happily ever after . . . right? 

End


End file.
